


The Loved

by cersedshadow



Series: 12 days of Lance [12]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 5+1 Things, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Established Keith/Lance (Voltron), F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Iverson is a dick, Lancemas 2019, M/M, Swearing, The Garrison - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:33:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23683948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cersedshadow/pseuds/cersedshadow
Summary: Day 12: The Loved‘I want that. To keep loving you. Five years isn’t enough.’‘Me too babe, me too’ a beat of silence, Keith sighing contentedly, feeling his eye lids start to drop. The soothing press of sleep weighing down his limbs, slowing his thoughts. ‘Wait, five years? You lost count babe. It’s only our third anniversary.’5+1 ways in which that love is returned.
Relationships: Hunk & Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron), Lance & Blue Lion (Voltron), Lance & Lance's Family (Voltron)
Series: 12 days of Lance [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612639
Comments: 19
Kudos: 130





	The Loved

**Author's Note:**

> So here it is, the last of them. Writing this body of work was a fun but exhausting challenge for me. Thank you to everyone who has bookmarked these and left kudos, it means a lot. And a special thank you to everyone who commented. Reading your comments really makes it all worth it and inspires me to keep writing. So thank you everyone <3

  1. **Sibling Love**



‘What do you mean you lost him!?’

‘I mean I lost him! He’s gone!’

‘How could you lose him!? You had one job, Rachael!’

‘Well I wouldn’t have lost him if someone could just remember to pick up a corsage, Louis!’

‘I said I’m sorry! I was too busy remembering the rings.’

‘Right, right…lets calm down. We can fix this’ said Veronica, taking a deep breath. Her two other siblings waiting on her next orders. ‘Right, lets think about this logically. I’m an over the top space ranger dork about to get married to the love of my life and I have to be extra at every turn cause I can never make life easy for my siblings, who really never get the appreciation they deser - the barn!’

Rachael and Louis didn’t hesitate, charging behind Veronica, all of them scrambling back up from the marquee laid out on the beach. Slipping past the guests without even a complimentary apology or smile as they sprinted back to the family farm. Panting, and swearing to herself that if this mad dash had messed up her hair then wedding or no wedding Veronica was finally going to strangle her little dweeb of a brother, she flung open the old barn door. The wood rattling on the ancient rollers.

‘Lance, you little fuck, get out here!’ she roared into the gloomy space. Right where she expected him, cuddled up close to his space cow, Lance squawked back in surprise.

‘Ronnie!’

‘Don’t you Ronnie me you little shit! How dare you make me ruin my hair before the ceremony. Do you know how long it takes to get it looking like this? Do you!’

Lance reared back from her advancing form, skipping around to put Kaltanecker between him and his irate elder sister. In the doorway Louis was slumped over his knees, barely having the energy to stand from his dead sprint. Rachael was a little better off, standing with her arms crossed in the light of the door. The look on her face made it clear she would allow no escape.

‘Of course I do. I’m the one who did it!’

‘Then stop being a little shit, get back to the marquee, put on your corsage and fix it for me! Half hour Lance! Half an hour and you need to be down that aisle.’

Lance wavered, shoulders slowly hunching into himself. His hands patted down Kaltaneckers flank, feeling the shift and twitch of muscle, scratching at the course fur. ‘What if,’ big breath, ‘What if I’m not…ready.’

Veronica sighed, letting her hands drop, pushing her anger out of her with the rush of air. In the doorway Rachael flung her head back, arms up, and groaned, long and loud to make her suffering known. Louis, still recovering, leaned against the barn door, gently banging his head against it. ‘It’s fucking Marco all over again’ he muttered under his breath.

‘Lance’ said Veronica, voice softer than before. Feeling the swelling urge to comfort as Lances lip wobbled, eyes imploring her to tell him what to do. The same way he had since he was a child, a wobbling toddler looking to her to make it all better.

‘Nope! No, no, no, no, nope! We are not doing this! Don’t indulge him Ronnie. He’s being and idiot and you know it. Now get you little angsty extra ass back down to that marquee and in that tent and down that aisle. Or so help me Lance I’ll marry Keith myself!’ Rachael screamed, face like thunder.

Lance squawked again, turning to face his more wild sister. ‘But, but, but’ he spluttered, trying to get a word out. Rachael steam rolled right over him.

‘No buts Lance! You’ve been skyping me to complain about this boy since you were four- _fucking_ -teen. You’ve chased him across the entire _universe_ and even after that you two were the slowest, densest, most painfully mutually pinning idiots in love that I have ever seen. Now that you have _finally_ got your head out of your ass and are marrying the boy you’re not ruining it by being an extra little drama queen and doubting yourself at the last second!’

Louis snapped his fingers, pointing with feeling, ‘what she said!’

‘I just…it’s all just, so much! It’s really, really happening.’

‘Well it won’t be if you don’t go back down there!’

Lance turned back to face Veronica, eyes still pleading for the answers but this time asking a completely different question. ‘Ronnie, is it…is it really…?’

Sighing fondly once more Veronica leaned over the cow, taking Lances hand and giving it a squeeze. ‘Yes Lance, it’s actually finally really happening. So get back down there and marry the boy of your dreams, in your dream wedding, which _includes the freaking aliens_ , and do what Rachael said and stop doubting yourself. This is yours, you’ve earned it. It’s okay to be happy.’

Lance let out a deep breath, looking into his sister’s eyes, to her smile, to the silver ring on his finger. Keith’s engagement ring to him. Thought about the gold wedding band he had got, imagined it resting next to its twin. Imagined it on Keith’s own fingers. Smiled.

‘Yeah, yeah, okay. Sorry for…sorry. Let’s get back. Rachael’s right.’

‘I’m always right. Now hustle people we’ve got fifteen minutes and counting! Marco’s probably throwing a fit. Not to mention Hunk.’

They exited, heading back down to the beach at a fast, but slightly gentler jog. Leaving kaltanecker to contentedly chew their cud in peace. On the way down Louis pulled Lance over, flinging an arm around his shoulder, briefly pressing their foreheads together and ruffling his hair. Earning a cry of dismay from the girls.

‘Rachael’s right little bro. Stop worrying, we’ve all got your back. It’s your wedding day!’

‘It just…feels wrong, somehow. Like, like it’s all a dream. Everything coming true. Being this happy.’

‘Yeah, the whole thing is cheesy as fuck. But seeing as you did save the whole universe several dozen times I think you’ve earned a pass. Besides’ continued Louis, giving Lance a sly, weary smile, ‘this is hardly the first time one of your whacky daydreams has come true. Space cops ring a bell?’

Lance barked a laugh, tears gathering to his eyes. HIs smile was stretching his cheeks so wide it hurt. The effervescent, swelling feeling in his chest all consuming. So much, so much.

‘Where were you all!’ wailed a deep voice, grabbing Lance by his shoulders and into the back of the marquee. Marco’s frazzled face pressing close. ‘I’ve been looking all over for you! Hunk’s gone into melt down. I only just about managed to stop Mama coming to find you. Why!? Why do you always do this to me!? You complete shit-bags!’

Lance hastily freed himself from his eldest brother’s grip when he started shaking him back and forth. Quickly crossing over to the dresser and attached mirror to sort out his hair and straighten his suit. Taking a slight sniff Lance really hoped he didn’t smell of cow.

‘We had a little bit of a meltdown but it’s sorted now’ reassured Veronica, mostly ignoring her haggard brother and strolling over to help Lance attach his corsage, demanding he fix her hair.

‘Yeah, kind of gave me daja-vu to your wedding. Only, Lance left for, like, ten minutes and went to barn, instead of skipping out for a full four hours and driving half the way to Havannah’ deadpanned Louis. Marco let out a huff, having long been teased to exhaustion about his own pre-marital cold feet. 

‘Okay’ said Lance, grabbing the attention of everyone in the room. He stood straight, squared his shoulders, smoothed his palms down his white suit one last time. Looked at his siblings; the responsible ones, the snappy ones, the cheery ones and the comforting ones. All of them the loving ones, in their own way. The people who helped raise him and teach him and scold him and tease him and, yes, drove him absolutely mad most of the time, but who he would never, _ever_ be able to do without and who would always have his back. Including kicking him in it when needed. Cause that’s what love was sometimes. Someone who would give you the smacking you needed to go and make your dreams come true.

Even if that dream was a marrying an alien in a beach wedding. Half-alien. Whatever, it counted.

‘Hell yeah you are. Now shoo, shoo. Everyone’s already at their seats and Keith’s expected to walk down the aisle in five minutes’ said Marco, pulling Lance into a hurried hug, before spinning him and pushing him out the small room and back onto the beach.

The collection of McClain’s spilled out, sending apologising and half embarrassed smiles to the guests as they got themselves sorted. Hunk practically fainting in relief when he saw Lance. His Mama and Papa sending him proud if understanding smiles. No way Marco had been able to keep Lance’s little panic hidden from them. Sylvio and Nadia looked happy to see him. No doubt already starting to grow bored with the wait.

Lance took his place by the makeshift altar. Looked one more time to his family, to the smiling faces of his siblings. The thumbs up Louis flashed making his eyes crinkle with the force of his smile. No doubt this whole little episode would be making it ad-lib into the speeches they had prepared. As well as any other embarrassing childhood story they hadn’t already spilled to the masses at large. He was going to be humiliated in front of intergalactic royalty and his lovers serious faced ninja warrior gang. Knowing Rachael’s sense of humour and Veronica’s downright scary perfectionism, they probably had pictures.

The music started up, Lance felt his breath catch. He couldn’t wait.

  1. **Platonic Love**



Hunk was worried. This was not an unusual state of affairs. Hunk was a general worrier. If asked what his greatest talent was it wouldn’t be engineering, or cooking, or even projectile vomiting. It would be worrying. Hunk worried about a lot of things; the state of his hair, the midterm he turned in, whether his mum remembered to feed his gerbil, if he would embarrass himself in class, if Iverson really was out to get him? The list went on and on. However, this time was different, because Hunk was worried about Lance.

Hunk _never_ worried about Lance.

Okay, that was a lie. He _occasionally_ worried about Lance. Like, whether he did alright on his own midterm or was missing his family? Or if he noticed he had a stain on his shirt when talking? Or if he really was completely deaf and oblivious to just how terrible his pick up lines were? Or if he really didn’t like Hunks puns? He didn’t, however, generally worry about how Lance was doing as a whole.

Hunk hadn't been too sure what to think when he was roomed with the overly loud, rapid speaking, story spinning Cuban in his first years at the Garrison, but since then he had found that, despite the knocks he might receive, Lances confidence wasn't all bluff. Or the talking of one too obnoxious to notice what was going on around him. Instead Hunk had found within the sunshine packaging of his friend a core of steel. Unshakable, resolute, determined. Failure wasn't something new to Lance but every time he had overcome it and grown stronger. So when this latest blow fell, his name absent from the fighter pilot list, black ink on white delivering news of shattered dreams, Hunk had seen the brief flickering of upset in his friends eyes, watched the determined frown cringle his brow and the grin stretch his face…and hadn't worried. Surely, if Lance could overcome everything else, he could overcome this.

In retrospect he had be naïve. Some blows landed harder than others and while Hunk often felt like he had known Lance for his entire life, so fast and so intense had their friendship formed, sometimes it became abundantly clear that their relationship was but a few years old. That there were whole swaths of Lance life for which Hunk hadn’t been present. No matter how many stories Lance told there were novels and sagas in words still left unsaid.

Hunk shouldn’t have assumed that this would blow over like everything else. It became abundantly clear that this wasn’t like any other time. This time it was one push to far. One knock too many.

It had started small. Little things easily over looked. A laugh just a little too high, a smile just a little too brittle, a snappy come back just a tick too late. The garrison was a challenging, cut throat competitive place and it wore on people tempers and moods. Needling and teasing bordering on out and out ridicule was not unusual and the teachers were generally want to let them sort it out themselves. Being a semi military school the axiom was 'you work hard, you play hard'. If the student’s couldn’t defend themselves from their peers then they had no place in the dangerous high pressure environment of the cockpit.

Honestly, Hunk hated it and it was one of the reasons he stuck so close to Lance. Not only was the other boy always quick to his defence, his comebacks delivered with fire even if not with wit, but when not provoked he was generally quite laid back. His gossip consisting mostly of who was hot and the bemoaning the amount of homework the teachers gave, rather than deriding his fellow classmates. The only exception being Keith Kogane, who could get under Lances skin like no one else. 

At that point Hunk hadn't even noticed that anything was wrong. His first real clue had come when the next set of tests rolled around. Lance, despite what he would like others to believe, was a diligent student. He would study as needed in the evenings to keep his grades up and take things seriously. However, before being put in cargo class Lance had studied in moderation. No matter how important the test he had made sure to eat and sleep properly. Stretch his legs and not get to caught up in last minute insecurities and test madness. That was normally Hunks job. So when Hunk found himself being the one to convince Lance that he had learnt all he could after basically reading his aerodynamics text book cover to cover fifty times at three in the morning, alarm bells started ringing.

Then they got louder.

Another day and Lance was being snapped at by Iverson. 'I've given my response cadet. You do not have permission to access the simulators.'

'But, Sir...'

'Are you questioning me cadet!' Hunk watched as Lance’s fingers spasmed, clenched, relaxed. While his face remained smooth, mouth set.

'...No, Sir.'

'No sir is right. Those simulators are for professionals only, now move along _cargo_ _pilot_.' Lance face briefly twitched before settling, snapping out a picture perfect salute as Iverson stormed away. Hunk breathed a sigh of relief. He moved to pat Lance on the back in commiseration but didn’t get the chance, his roommate stomping away.

Hunk got his next clue that something was wrong after the first quarterly tests. Normally Lance was filled with the sort of jittery anxiousness, worrying about his answers but in general being relieved that it was over. Eager to forget the whole experience with some chocolate from the commissary, or privet after hours party to sneak into.

This was not like those times.

'Sooooo, did you think it went alright? I know this is one of your best classes but some of those questions were really mean. I swear we never did Fractums Theorum.'

'It was in the extra reading from last year' said Lance, sullenly.

'Well...yeah, but still. Kind of a dick move right.'

'Yeah, right' mumbled Lance, making his way down the hall, weaving around their chattering classmates. Hunk bit his lip, fiddling with his backpack strap as he hurried along to keep up. He took in Lance’s crinkled brown, the tired bags under his eyes, the way he kept his gaze firmly on the ground. Someone called out, Hunk glancing over to see James sauntering over. James had made it into fighter class. Lance took a quick breath, slowed his steps and by the time he looked up a smile was stretching across his face, his shoulders thrown back. Not an ounce of the sleepless night to show save the bags under his eyes. Hunk bit his lip harder.

Hunk watched as Lance picked his way through dinner, worry now a real, live thing in his gut. Lance barely nibbled at his food, moving the goop round his plate again and again. The silence might as well have been a big red sign saying 'NOT OKAY'. Lance ate like a ravenous animal most days, his late growth spurts throwing his metabolism into overdrive and making even the garrisons sloop appealing. If Lance wasn’t eating it was only because he was talking. He always had something to say, about the smallest, strangest of things. Hunk was always surprised with how much Lance found to comment about, especially when he shared most classes with him and found much of it the same boring drudgery not worth remembering. 

When they got back to their dorm room that night Hunk finally decided it had been enough. He was going to have to ask. His stomach turned, anxiety spiking and Hunk briefly thought of just...letting it go. Like he did the comments from the bullies and the jeers from others. Easier to just let it pass by than stand up and confront the problem. That was generally Lance’s thing. 

Lance picked up his textbook again. Hunk was opening his mouth before he even knew it. 'Hay man, are you alright?'

'I’m fine Hunk. Just tired.'

Hunk shuffled his weight, fell onto the bed opposite. Staring at Lances staring at his textbook. He wasn’t even turning the pages. 'Yeah okay, I get that. But tests are over now, so why are you still reading?'

'I need to keep up Hunk. We're students, we're meant to study,' snapped Lance, glancing up only briefly.

'Yeah, but you studied last night. And the night before that, and the night before that, and the entire week before that. I'm pretty sure you could recite that book to me by now Lance.'

Lance merely huffed, going back to staring intently at the page. Hunk gripped his bed sheets, working up his courage. 'Is this about not getting into fighter class?'

Lance snapped the book shut with a bang, glaring. 'No Hunk. Stop asking.'

'Cause you were so close man!' Hunk hurried to say as Lance stomped about the room, shoulders up to his ears. 'I'm sure you'll get in next year.'

'I told you it’s not that Hunk!'

'Well what is it then, cause it’s obviously something?! Lance, come on man, _talk_ to me. I just want to help.'

'I don’t need any help' yelled Lance, spinning, shower bag in hand to glare down at Hunk. Making him flinch back ever so slightly. Lance had never yelled at him before. Not like this. 'Stop being so bloody nosey!'

Lance stomped towards the door, Hunk rallied himself. 'You need to talk to someone Lance! It...it doesn’t have to be me. What about Veronica or Rachael? What did they say when you told them?' Lance paused, hand on the door knob, gripping tight enough to turn his fingers white. Hunk stood up slowly, shuffling forward, unsure what was happening. 'Lance, please...?'

'I haven’t' Hunk strained his ears, trying to pick up what Lance saying, 'I haven't...told them, yet.' 

Hunk blinked, trying to process, disbelieving. Lance told his family _everything_. 'But...but it’s been a month, Lance.'

'I know' Lance grit out. 

'What...what about Veronica? Doesn’t she work here, wont she know?'

'She’s on a training trip right now' said Lance, voice louder now but tone defeated, hollow.

Hunk laid a hand on his shoulder, feeling the muscle tense as he did so. Lance coiling even tighter into himself. 'Dude...dude you need to...you need to tell them. They need to know.'

'Well maybe I don’t want them to know!' snapped Lance, throwing Hunks hand from his shoulder and glaring hotly. 'Did you ever consider that Hunk? Did you!? Maybe I don’t want them thinking their son is a failure. Worrying about all the money their wasting sending him to fucking America when he can’t even cut it and is stuck as a _fucking cargo pilot_.'

Hunk reared back, mostly from surprise. He had never heard Lance swear before. The hours of babysitting he put in for his family and the kids around the neighbourhood ingraining the habit. Lance breathed heavily, face red from shouting, shoulders raised high, glaring with eyes slightly moist. Hunk was struck dumb, mouth hanging open but voice silent.

Lance ground his teeth, eyes tight. 'I'm going to shower.' With a rattle he stormed out the door. Hunk let him go. Knowing he should say something but not having the words. Slowly he shuffled backwards, falling on to his bed. Worry and anxiety and fear for his friend churning within him.

Whining and feeling his own eyes grow wet Hunk brought a hand to his mouth to muffle his small sounds, worrying at his gloves with his teeth. A childhood habit his Mama had worked hard to break him of. Resurfacing as he played Lance’s words over and over again.

Lance voice had cracked, chocked and sputtered his way all over his confession. Hunk hadn't known sadness could be hot before. He had always thought of it as a cold feeling. Like falling into a deep dark lake, but there was no denying the heat in Lance’s words. The not quite anger, the not quite frustration. Churning and burning from the inside.

Shame. That feeling was shame. Lance felt _ashamed_ of himself. That’s why he hadn’t told his family.

Hunk breathed deeply, rocking back and forth to calm himself down. Starting one of the many breathing exercises his mother had taught him. He had changed into pyjamas and was already half tucked up in bed when Lance got back. Hunk shuffled out himself to go to the bathroom and by the time he returned the room was dark, only the side light letting him navigate to his bunk. Lance ensconced under the covers, turned to the wall. Hunk opened his mouth, closed it with a click. Chocking on his uncertainty. Feeling like the worst Hunk got into bed, breathing out a quite 'goodnight' as he turned off the light. Lance said nothing.

Hunk didn’t sleep, the anxiety keeping him awake better than a strong cup of coffee. Lying on his back, he tried not to shuffle to much least he disturb Lance, something he had never really worried about before now. His eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, the strip of light coming under the door throwing shadows across the room. The night hummed with silence.

The sniffles started small. Slightly hitched breathing, a quiet whine, a shift of sheets as Lance curled into himself even more. Crying quietly in the dark. It broke Hunks heart and by the time the first sob broke fourth he was moving.

'Lance, come on, get up' he whispered, throwing his covers off and grabbing the other by the shoulder. Pulling gently. Lance quieted himself, jumping slightly at the movement. 

'Wha...Hunk?'

'Come on man. We're going out,' said Hunk firmly, keeping his voice down as he slipped his trainers back on. Practically throwing Lance his jacket as his friend blinked at him from the bed. 'Come on, come on, come on. The rotation will change soon. We need to move.'

'Hunk? Hunk, slow down.' Lance grumbled, springing from his own bed while Hunk slowly opened their door and poked his head round into the quiet corridor beyond. The emergency lighting on the floors showing no other souls wondering about. Lance shrugged his jacket on over his pyjamas, wondering what this was all about as he stuffed his feet into his trainers, shoelaces tucked into the sides. Normally it was Lance who heckled Hunk into sneaking out, not the other way round.

Seeing him upright Hunk grabbed his wrist, pulling him from the room and quickly high tailing it as quietly as possible down the corridor when he saw the camera turn away. By this point both of them could sneak out successfully nine times out of ten. It was generally the sneaking back in that was the trick. However, instead of turning left which would take them in their normal route to a side delivery entrance Hunk turned right, deeper into the complex.

'Hunk!' hissed Lance as he was dragged behind the bigger boy. 'Hunk, where are we going?'

'Shhhhh' Hunk shushed Lance into silence, ever so slowly poking his head round another blind corridor. Seeing it was empty he quickly thought back to the cameras, squinting to pick them out of the darkness. He could feel his hands sweating as he pulled Lance’s protesting form down the corridor, practically running to beat the ever watchful eyes of the security system. Pressing himself and his friend to the wall in the one blind spot, barely daring to breath.

'Hunk!' snapped Lance, again, trying to work his wrist free. Hunk spun round, looking Lance directly in the eye. Something in his face must have taken Lance by surprise because his own eyes widened and he fell silent. 

'Lance, every time you've dragged me out the garrison for some crazy scheme I've tried to stop you and you've told me to trust you and I have. Well, now it’s time for you to trust me. So do you trust me?'

Lance took a short sharp breath, blue eyes staring deeply into his own. Hunk could feel his heart thumping in his chest, pleading Lance to take his hand. 'Okay buddy. I trust you. Now where are you taking us?'

Hunk smiled, gripping Lances hand tight in his own. 'Awesome. I'm trying to get to the kitchen.'

Lance clicked his tongue and started pulling Hunk back the way they came. 'Well then you’re going the wrong way. Come on its better to take the round route by the delivery entrance. The cams are stationary and there’s some good blind spots to use.' Deciding not to ask his friend how he knew this Hunk followed along behind Lance. It didn’t take long for it to feel like one of their normal night escapades, Hunk breaking out into the mission impossible theme tune as they edged along a corridor, camera turning above them, unaware of their presence. Lance grinned at him, starting up with the beat also. Doing a frankly unnecessary roll through a doorway outside, finger guns coming out for the hop round the parked jeeps. Hunk had to stop himself laughing outright when Lance kept a running commentary about his lock picking skills when they got to the back service elevator for the kitchen, sounding like a football commentator, spinning around to gallantly open the door for Hunk to traipse through, pretending to swoon as he did so. 

It was more smiles and laughter than he had heard from Lance in weeks and it lifted Hunk’s spirits to hear it once again. Lance was a boy who was made for laughing. Eventually, and not a little surprisingly, they made it into the kitchen, jimmying open a few more doors on the way. Once there they quickly scanned for cameras and found that there were none they used their phone torches to scan the place. The stainless steel countertops glinting back at them. The place felt spooky, in a way that empty spaces normally full of life often did. They shared a glance, sticking close as they explored the area, propping up their phones to free their hands. Hunk set to rifling through the cupboards, letting out a happy hum of surprise when he found the pantry, quickly gathering up everything they needed. Behind him Lance poked and prodded at anything that caught his interest, having fallen once again into silence. 

Hunk plopped down the bag of flour and the garlic he had acquired, getting his attention. 'What’s up buddy?' Lance gazed at the pile of ingredients on the counter while Hunk set about finding the correct tools. Why did no one at the Garrison know how to organise a kitchen properly? No wonder they food was awful. He'd only found a hand full of seasonings, pepper and salt and nothing else. Hunk scoffed in disgust, could they get any more white? 'All this for some mid night baking?'

'Yep' replied Hunk, popping the p and shoving a knife into Lance’s hand. He stared at it in incomprehension. 'So get chopping. Garlic’s not going to dice itself.'

'You can’t be serious Hunk. If we use this stuff someone’s bound to notice!'

'But they’re not going to know it was us! Look, just do this for me will you, please Lance.' Hunk replied, softening his tone at the end. Lance sighed once again but offered a small, fond smile.

'All right buddy. But only cause it’s you.'

Hunk grinned, finally feeling like he was getting somewhere. Honestly he had no idea if this whole crazy scheme would help in any way but he didn’t know what else to do. Cooking was Hunks go to when he was sad and feeling stressed and right now it was all he had to offer. So if that meant sneaking into the Garrison kitchen to do some late night elicit baking then so be it. They worked in near silence, Hunk putting together a quick dough and Lance chopping up garlic and butter. It didn’t take long for him to catch on.

'Oh' he breathed, seeing the baking sheet Hunk had taken out of the oven, 'garlic knots.' Lances hands trembled, briefly looking like he was going to cry. Hunk panicked.

'Yeah, your favourite right?' 

'Yeah' Lance mumbled, looking back down to what they had made. Slowly he reached out, untwisted the dough from the simple plait Hunk had made and with deft fingers twisted and pulled the buttery garlicky mixture into a small miniature Gordian knot. Hunk stared, impressed. Lance swallowed hard, going about re-knotting the others. 'This...this is how Mama does them.'

Hunk hummed, deciding not to say anything and set about greasing the try. Laying each little bundle on it precisely as Lances finished them. Then sliding the whole thing carefully into the oven. They set about cleaning up the kitchen, covering their tracks. Finished Hunk slid down to the floor facing the warm oven, face cast in its red glow. Lance joined him not a moment later, a clear inch of space between them. The silence stretched for a moment, warm and garlicky. 

'It’s going to be okay Lance' Hunk said after a time, not turning to look but feeling Lance stiffen beside him. A moment stretched and Lance slumped, tension draining from his frame, weariness creeping in. The inch between them vanished as Lance tipped over, resting his gangly frame against Hunk’s side. Hunk wrapped his arms around him in a hug, offering a squeeze of comfort. 

'I know' Lance mumbled, sounding defeated. 'I just...it’s just...' He worried his lip into silence.

Hunk gave another squeeze, feeling the aching knawing feeling in his gut once again. Helpless to help his friend help himself. 'Everything’s going to be alright. I know...I know you really wanted to get into fighter class' Lance made a wounded, whining sound of agreement, half snorting a laugh at the understatement, 'but you were really, _really_ close. You’re a good pilot Lance, they'll see that.'

'When Hunk? When? I worked, so, _so_ hard and now...and now Iverson won’t even let me into the simulators. How am I meant to improve, to catch up, if I can’t even practice? All the others have sponsors and recommendations and stuff. I can't fall behind even more.'

'Iverson’s a dick' Hunk said, wishing there was something more he could say. Whishing he cold refute what Lances was saying. He couldn’t. 'Iverson’s a dick and his face is going to be priceless when you prove him wrong next year.'

Lance snorted; it was not a humorous sound. 'Sure buddy. Thanks for believing in me.'

'I mean it Lance. You’re a good pilot, top of cargo class! You only missed out by three points. Three points! You can make that up no trouble.' Lance whined again, burying down deeper into Hunks shoulders. Hunk worried, this isn’t how he wanted the conversation to go. 'I mean it Lance. You and me, all the way remember. I'll build the planes and you fly them. That’s how it’s gonna go.'

'Heh, I remember. All the way to Andromeda and back, right?'

'Right! First ones out the solar system. A whole new star! Hero’s of the ages! All the good stuff' encouraged Hunk, smiling into his own vision, glancing at the messy head of soft chestnut hair pressed under his nose. Lance hummed, staring off into the dreams made in their first year. The oven beeped once, the smell of freshly baked goods drifting round the room. The comforting scent so close to his childhood. So close to home.

'I just...I just wanted them to be proud, you know.'

'I know buddy. They are proud, Lance. They're going to _be_ proud when you tell them. You’re going to have to...tell them sometime. Soon. Or Veronica’s going to find out when she gets back.'

'I know, I know...' Lance mumbled, pulling away from Hunks embrace to face away, back into the dark cold of the room beyond their little bubble. He brought his arms around himself in an imitation of a hug, nails dug deep into his jacket. Hunk looked at Lance’s back, stomach dropping, feeling like he was going around in circles. 

Fretting Hunk got up, turning the oven off and draw out the baking sheet. The warm buttery knots sitting perfectly golden and crisp, steam wafting up with their delicious scent. Hunk stared at them, wishing it was that simple. Slowly he got out a plate and transferred them over with a spatula to cool. Shuffling around to stand in front of Lance, dropping to his knees and pushing his offering forward between them, effecting a wan smile.

'Come on buddy. Have a garlic knot; it'll make you feel better.' Lance stared, empty eyed, before reaching forward. Pulling back with a hiss when the still steaming pastry burned his fingers but gingerly pulling apart one of the savoury snacks and blowing on it. Popping it in his mouth, feeling the flavour explode across his tongue. The flavour of home and comfort. So at odds with the sterile, cold, echoing caverns of the Garrison. Entombed in the dry unforgiving dessert, so far from the things that made him happy.

'I just wanna fly Hunk' he whispered in-between bites. 'I just wanna fly.'

Hunk picked at his own snack, biting his lip and feeling his own eyes water in sympatric tears at the broken sound of Lance confession. 'I know buddy. You will. You will.'

Hunk watched Lance slowly break down over his small plate of garlic knots, sniffles starting as he continued to chew. Salty brine finally spilling over blue eyes onto tan cheeks in the semi-darkness. Breath hitching, low whines slipping fourth, hands clutching himself for comfort. Hunk scrambled forward, pushing away the uneaten garlic knots and scooped Lance up into his arms, pressing his face down firmly against the crook of his neck, feeling his pyjamas turn wet as Lance finally broke. Finally let it all out and let him in. 

Hunk realised this was what Lance had been needing all this time. It didn’t matter what he said or did. Lance didn’t need someone to tell him everything was going to be alright. That his family would still be proud of him. That he could keep practicing and try again next year. That he still had a chance.

Lance knew that. He knew this wasn’t the end of it all. That he would get up and keep trying no matter how much of a dick Iverson was being. That he would keep reaching for his dream no matter how long it took or how many blows he suffered along the way. That there was nothing on this earth that could stop his family being proud of him, loving him. That he was a good pilot, especially when he could forget about all the eyes watching him and just fly.

Lance knew all that. He didn’t need someone to _tell_ him what he already knew. He needed someone to _listen_ to how he felt. There, on the Garrisons cold haunting kitchen floor at three in the morning with the warm smell of garlic and fresh pastry in the air and butter smeared on their hands, Hunk swore to be that person. If Lance needed it he would be there. For his friend, for the boy who stood by him and deserved so, so much better. So he soothed Lance as he sobbed, hummed and swayed as he choked out his worries and his fears, gently dried his tears with the corner of his jacket when they lessened. Smiled back when Lance looked at him after. Tired and worn but strong.

Cause Lance wasn’t made with a core of steel. Steel grew brittle and breakable in the cold. Steal melted under heat and pressure. Lance was made with a core of diamond, and if that diamond got dirty sometimes and needed a little love and TLC to keep shining brightly, well Hunk could provide that. He _wanted_ to provide that.

Hunk worried about Lance. Not in general, but sometimes. Cause Lance was human and he deserved some worrying sometimes too. 

  1. **Parental Love**



When they first returned, freshly victorious from the final confrontation and longing to set foot on their much missed, much loved home, they hadn’t been expecting their families to greet them. There they were; Pidge’s mum, Shiro’s aunt, the Garrets little tribe and the entirety of the McClain clan, who were by far the loudest. Lance had charged for them the moment he saw them. All thoughts of discipline, battle and diplomacy lost. The McClain’s had met him in the middle. The kids running ahead of the adults. Lance kneeled down, scooping them close to himself, pressing his face into their fly away hair, names like prayers on his lips. Already in tears. 

The rest of the family were quick to do the same, scrambling over each other to touch him, to make sure he was real. Cries of his name and 'where have you been!' and 'we missed you so much!' and 'are you alright?' thrown around in a mix of Spanish and English babble. Lance mother was practically glued to his side and he absolutely refused to put down his niece and nephew. It was a mess, a loving pile of limbs and smiles and tears and apologies with Lance encased in the middle of it all. Finally backed where he belonged. 

At some point Lance stood up, still trying to talk to and apologise to his wailing mother when his farther wade in through the tide of bodies, grabbing him by his neck and pulling him forward. Pressing Lance face into his shoulder. Lance noticed he had to bend down, having finally grown into his wide hands and feet, now taller than his farther. It made him ache for those missing years, for the time spent apart, no matter how important the task had been, how noble the cause.

'Son' whispered his Papa, voice hushed and gruff, layered with emotion. 'My son.' Lance felt a fresh wave of tears spill fourth, hearing the wetness in his Papa’s voice. His childhood rock, his hero, weeping. Because of him.

Lance pressed down harder, wetting his father’s shirt. Old cotton worn thin through loving use. He smelled like home. 'I'm back, Papa. I missed you.'

Later, now watching her youngest son bellow out a war cry as he was tackled into the surf by a gaggle of nieces and nephews and younger cousins and other random kids drawn into the play, Rosa McClain felt something inside her loosen. A knot of worry and grief come undone. The weight of it no longer tying her down. Her heart rejoicing that her baby boy was back. Back with them. Alive and happy. Living well.

There were marks though, splashes of the stories he wouldn’t tell them. The dark side to the tales he had spun of space and hero’s and alien princesses. A smattering of bubbly raised skin on the middle of his back, a cut in his brow above his eye, a thin line of pale skin on his hip, jagged lines like lightening branching up the inside of his left arm. Marks of the danger and the horror he had faced. Scars accumulated while her baby grew up without her, far from home. More than that she couldn’t help worrying about the marks not seen. Those less easily healed. They would come out in time, of that she was sure.

But not now, Rosa thought. Holding back a giggle as Lance raised himself from the surface, grabbing a scrabbling screaming child under each arm, throwing them over his shoulder and spinning. Throwing up salty surf and another round of screams into the bright morning air. His hostages fought their way free, using the time honoured tradition of pulling at Lance’s shorts till the force of the wedgie made him release them for mercy. A chase started up, Lance declaring his revenge.

There was a snort beside her, badly muffled with a cough. Rosa shared a look with her husband, subtle smile curling her face. It wasn’t just tales and scares her son had returned with. Manuel McClain cleared his throat and shifted his shoulders. Rose rolled her eyes and went back to watching the small scale splash war now taking place on the beach. Lance severally outnumbered but giving as good as he got, holding little Louise, barely two, to his chest and encouraging her to splash back against her older siblings. The little bundle of pink frilly swimming costume and dark brown baby rolls giggling all the while. Rosa could feel her heart swelling even as she kept her ears open.

‘So, Keith’ blustered Manuel, ‘I understand you and Lance went to the garrison together.’

‘Ahh, umm yep. Yes, sir.’

‘Friends were you?’

‘Not…exactly’ the poor boy was fidgeting. Digging out little piles of sand, eyes cast down. The confident, strong solider reduced to awkward teenager in the gaze of his boyfriends parents. For some reason Rosa didn’t think the normal shovel talk would scare a Paladin of Voltron. She had seen the boy’s sword.

‘That so. Well, I suppose you’re bound to grow closer when stuck in space together. Must get a bit…lonely.’ Rosa resisted a sigh. She would admit to her husband being a lot of things but subtle was never one of them. Keith turned red and remained silent. Probably for the best. ‘Just how long have the two of you been together?’

‘Umm, maybe a few months…it’s a bit hard to tell with the time dilation and wormholes and everything.’

‘Only a few months? That doesn’t sound very long.’

‘Well a lot happened and stuff’ Keith shuffled, casting his gaze to the beach and then quickly back. ‘I…I’ve liked him for a long time though! I just…didn’t think it was the right time and stuff.’ He volunteered, face still red but determined to face down Manuel. On the shore Lance went down face first into the sand before springing up spluttering, having taken in a mouthful of the salty brine. The children quickly piled on to his back to keep him down and started pouring more of the wet goop onto him in an attempt to bury him alive. Rachael had wondered over at some point to help and was merrily cackling away. Payback for all the times Lance buried her while she sunbathed.

Manual made a gruff noise of agreement. Benevolently agreeing that a universal war might not be the best time for teenage pinning. ‘Well, what are you planning to do now?’

‘Well’ Keith cut his eyes to the side, gaze softening and expression melting into fondness while he watched his boyfriend get bested by five year olds. Rosa marvelled at the way this boy looked at her son. Like every one of his dreams was coming true. Struck with wonder.

‘We’re not sure, actually. For now we’re definitely staying on earth but there’s so much still to be done. While we’ve dealt with most of the empire there will be resistance movements and then we need to work to integrate the Galra civilians back into the universe at large. And there’s still thousands of planets that need aid and help and would benefit from joining the coalition.’

‘So you plan on going back into space then?’ Rosa could feel some of the lustre of the world fade. Knew by the sound of her husband’s voice that the true was same for him. Just how long would they be missing their baby this time? Just how much more of his life, of Lance growing up and growing apart, would they bare as the universe claimed him in her star speckled embrace.

Keith must have noticed something, the down turn of Manuals brow, the drop of her shoulders. He rushed to reassure them. ‘It won’t be anytime soon! All the paladins want to spend time with their families and Allura and Coran are keen to solidify the current coalition before doing anything else. Plus the Lions are like, completely drained from the final fight so they aren’t going anywhere quickly.’

‘But you will leave, eventually I mean?’ grumbled Manual. Rosa reached over and threaded her fingers with her husband. The both of them squeezing tight. Thousands of unspoken words, hope and grief passing between them.

‘We will keep in contact! We have communicators and all the paladins are giving one to their family. They work just like phones, only over really long distances. So there should only be a small delay and you can call anytime. Plus, Lance is already petitioning for vacation days. He and Hunk have threatened to go on strike if they can’t come back at least twice a year.’

Rosa felt her shoulders relax just an inch, fondness welling up. Manual barked a startled laugh, ‘they haven’t!’

Keith nodded empathetically, ‘they have. They even threatened to re-set the castle systems if they weren’t allowed. Hunk is determined to not go a moment longer only eating food goo. Lance threatened Shiro with starting a union last time they talked about it.’

‘Hah, of course he did. He and his siblings have done that before. I think I’m still contractually obliged to give them one free pass at dinner every month plus two extra days for ‘things-going-down’ a year or face the consequences.’ Keith let out a breathy sort of laughter, shy but mirthful. Finally starting to relax.

‘What are you lot laughing about?’ came a new voice, catching their attention.

Lance stood looking over the collection of them, little Louise perched on his hip and wet sand clinging to, well, everything. His eyes sparkled, sun already darkening his skin, flush upon his face. Keith stared mute, face a picture of longing. Honestly, it was almost enough to make her blush if it didn’t have her heart melting. Lance bent down, brushing a kiss to Keith’s slightly parted mouth, cupping his cheek and smearing sand over the boys pale skin. Keith flamed red.

‘Hay babe, hope the parents are giving you too hard a time.’ Lance glared playfully to his farther. Manuel waved him off with a huff.

‘Keith was telling us that you have communicators you can leave with us. For when you go back into space’ said Rosa, pulling the attention away from the tender moment least Keith fall over comatose from critical modesty. Lance made himself comfortable on the sand, little Louise content to fiddle with the shell he handed her.

‘Oh yeah! I forgot. I’ll give them to you when we get back to the house. We actually have two! So, like, you guys can have one and maybe Veronica? Since she’ll be back at the Garrison and all. Or maybe Marco, for the kids? I dunno, we aren’t going anywhere soon.’

‘That’s good. But Keith said each paladin only had once communicator to give to their family?’

‘Oh, well that’s…’ Lance looked at Keith, the two of them sharing a look.

‘…the second ones actually mine’ he volunteered, looking away. ‘Umm, I don’t really…have anyone here to leave it to. Cause, Shiro’s my family and then there’s my mum but they would be coming with us so…I figured since you have such a large family I would let Lance have mine.’ Another look shared, small tender smiles exchanged. Hands reaching out to clasp on the sand like they didn’t even notice. Maybe they didn’t, consider Rosa. Maybe it was that natural.

‘Thank you. We appreciate it.’ Manual replied, patting Keith warmly on the shoulder. Getting a startled, pleased look in return. So precious.

‘Really, Keith dear. Thank you so much. I know everyone will appreciate it. You’re always welcome to call as well. In fact, please do. I know Lance doesn’t tell me everything and someone needs to keep an eye on him. Goodness knows he attracts trouble. Plus, it would be nice to hear from you.’

‘Mama! I can look after myself.’

‘I know dear but a little help never hurt. Besides, I’m your mother. It’s in my job description to worry’ she patted her baby on the check, feeling him lean into the touch. So warm and real and alive. Vibrate under his native sun.

Keith chocked up. ‘Th-thank you Ms McClain. I…I’d like that.’ Lance swiped a thumb over his knuckles, Keith’s eyes caught his. Another smile shared, another set of unspoken tender words. It wasn’t just Keith who was looking at the other like they were the very best of their dreams come true. Lance was smitten too. His adoration written plain all over his face.

Rosa sighed, content for the first time in a long while. All her precious children close and safe. Near and warm. Within reach of her embrace. Living and loving and leaving to start their own stories. Their own families. A bittersweet feeling of loss and wonder and pride.

‘Please dear, call me Rosa. Or Mama! Since you’re now part of the family. Isn’t that right dear?’ she nudged her husband, who grumbled in good fun and crossed his arms.

‘He can call me Papa when it’s official and not before.’

‘Oh don’t be such a grouch. Sorry Keith, he doesn’t mean it. We’d love to have you in the family. Just make sure that Lance doesn’t talk you into a beach wedding. Sand really does get everywhere and its hell on the catering. Not to mention the wedding night. Chaffing is no joke.’

Watching both her boys, new and old, faces bust with violent bright blushes, Rosa felt her heart settle for the first time in years. She had missed an important and life changing chapter of her sons life, but she was sure now that she would miss no other. There was still much more to come.

  1. **Romantic Love**



Three years. Three years since his feeling had overflowed, spilling over his lips like the tide and out into to open for everyone to see. Three years since his love had smiled at him and taken his hands and kissed him at Allura’s celebratory party. Three years since Keith had stopped helplessness, silently yearning. Three years since Lance had said yes.

Even now he could still barely believe it. Woke up some days just to stare and stare, until Lance snuffled awake and soothed his frantic heart with a kiss, teasing him for being a creep. Assuring him his love was treasured and returned for years to come. If the gold band sitting on his finger meant anything.

Three whole years.

As expected Lance had taken it upon himself to make their anniversary something special. Breakfast in bed, lunch with the family and then a fancy and secluded dinner. Filled with laughter and smiles and sweet, sweet kisses. Tender stolen moments, teasing caresses and flirtatious smiles. Leading them to here, bathed in twilight as they assured their love in much more physical ways.

Keith gasped as Lance rocked. Hot, hungry mouth locked to his neck and sending his heart tripping in his chest. Breath stolen from his lungs in sweet whispers and moans of his lover’s name. Lance was everywhere; from the taste on his lips to the strong hands on his back. The thundering heart against his chest, to reverent gasps of his name against his pulse and the flesh, deep and strong, rocking inside him. Everything was Lance. Keith’s mind a mantra, tumbling in time to their gentle thrusts, their echoing moans and grunts.

Lance, Lance, _Lance_.

Later, their skin cooled from the breeze blowing in through the open window. Cuba’s warm sweet nights soothing their combined pulse back to normal. Keith laid his head against Lance’s sweaty chest, listening to the quiet deep rhythm of his heart, the gentle swell of his breaths. Wondered still how he got here. How everything could be so…good. So _perfect_. Wondered if it was possible to keep falling in love even now.

A hand ran through his sweaty mussed hair, soothing down his scalp, over his neck to rest on his shoulder. Keith shifted indulgently under it, positioning himself to lay even further against his husband. Skin on warm skin. Heart against heart.

‘You alright love, you’ve been quiet all night?’ Lance hushed whisper sent a shiver down his spine, along with his gently stroking fingers. Keith hummed in response, eyelashes fluttering closed. Contentment filling his chest to the brim. ‘Keith?’

‘It’s nothing’ he whispered, unwilling to break the drowsy soothing silence of the night.

‘That means it’s something’ Lance said, wrapping both warm arms around his spouse.

Keith sighed, nosing his way into the hollow of Lance throat, kissing his adam apple leisurely. He knew well enough to know Lance would be expecting a proper answer. Would begin to worry if Keith didn’t elaborate. ‘I’ve just been thinking.’

‘About?’

‘This. Us. Our time together. How much you mean to me.’

‘I love you’ Lance replied, squeezing, pressing his own kiss to Keith’s head. He could feel as Lance’s heart sped up ever so slightly, felt his own respond in kind. Smile stretching across his face, Keith buried his face deeper into the warm tan shoulder.

‘I love you too’ he breathed. Feeling like he was confessing all over again, voice thick. Weighed down with the weight of his feelings. ‘It’s still just… _so much_ , sometimes. To think that your here with me. That we could be like this for three more years. Ten years. More.’

‘More’ hummed Lance, peppering him with more kisses. Pulling him even closer into his embrace. ‘Definitely more.’

Keith kept smiling, heart full. Maybe it was the atmosphere, maybe it was the day, maybe it the endorphins still zinging their way through his veins from their love making, but he could feel his eye getting a little wet. Bliss. This was bliss.

‘I want that. To keep loving you. Five years isn’t enough.’

‘Me too babe, me too’ a beat of silence, Keith sighing contentedly, feeling his eye lids start to drop. The soothing press of sleep weighing down his limbs, slowing his thoughts. ‘Wait, five years? You lost count babe. It’s only our third anniversary.’

‘Muumm, loved you before that.’

Lance shifted underneath him, pulling the blanket of sleep back much to Keith’s dismayed whining. Sitting up slightly, propping himself against the mess of pillows they had pushed to the head of the bed with their activities Lance tilted his chin up, catching his eyes. Blue eyes alert and bright. ‘Wait. Since when were you in love with me?’

Keith bit his lip, flush coming back to his face. Suddenly shy. ‘Ahh, well, back…back during Voltron, I guess. Not straight away, but…it didn’t take long.’ Keith paused, thinking back to those days. Filled with war and loss and the beginnings of his longing. Sudden and strong and _confusing_. Sending him into a spiral of denial, wonder and worry.

Lance was staring at him with wide eyes, face filling with wonder. ‘Keith that’s…that’s like seven years! Almost a decade!’

Keith stared into Lances face, tracing the lines of it with his gaze. Remembering it as it was when he was still very much a teen. When Keith first started noticing, first found that he couldn’t look away from that wide mouth and slightly upturned nose and sharp jaw. ‘Feels like longer’ he whispered, caught in the memories.

‘How…how did I not realise? We could have been together sooner!’ Lance bemoaned. Keith still caught up in the crinkle of his brown. On the weight of his large calloused palms on his lower back. Slowly Keith sat up, bringing his hands to cup Lance’s face. Stroking gently under those blue mesmerising eyes with his scared fingers.

Keith honestly didn’t know the answer. When he had first fallen for the bright laughing boy all those years ago he had thought it obvious. Like his heart was splayed across his face every time his gaze caught the flash of a smile, the raising of an eyebrow. Staring from across the room, fingers tingling with the want to touch. Tongue thick with unsaid words. Completely caught in Lance’s orbit.

Shiro had noticed, teased him in his own quiet but persistent way. With gentle smiles and playful nudges, mocking eyebrows and quick pinches to his thigh or arm when Keith completely zoned out from the conversation, entranced by a bark of laughter, or waving hands. Nimble skilled fingers and wide shoulders hypnotising.

When alone the teasing had been less quiet and a bit more merciless. Keith figured he deserved it for everything Shiro had done for him, for his own teasing about Adam. For being allowed to whine and moan about how pretty and how skilled and how hot Lance was when he was being serious, or happy, or sweet. For listening to his sniffles and angry huffing over Lance flirting with some other alien. Badly disguised jealously and hurt in need of soothing.

Red had made it very clear she knew where her paladin’s heart lay. As with everything she had been nosy and bossy. Insisting again and again that Keith tell Lance. That he make a move. At least she seemed to approve of his choice. Having grown her own soft spot for the Blue Paladin in the brief time Shiro had been missing. Keith had felt the change in Red after that. The effect Lance had had on her, and figured he had been affected much the same. Rougher edges soothed, fire tempered and controlled. Ready to burn bright and hot in defence of his family. No longer a wild range, want to destroy himself as much as others. Instead it was condensed. Focused. After all, the hottest flames burned blue.

Keith honestly couldn’t tell when it had started. There was no one thing to make him fall, no one instance which sent his heart thundering. By the time he was aware of his feelings he was already spiralling. Consumed with the feeling of loving someone as he was coming to love Lance.

The starting stirrings of a crush;

_‘Hay man, you okay.’_

_‘I got your back buddy!’_

_‘Try to keep up samurai’_

The foundations of devotions laid by;

_‘Yeah you made a mistake. Now we got to fix it.’_

_‘The black lion wouldn’t chose someone that wasn’t ready. I respect its choice. You should too.’_

_‘That’s our team leader!’_

The depths of yearning swelling with;

_‘Nothing beats the sunset at Varadero beach man. Nothing. I’ll take you there someday.’_

_‘Dude, you haven’t lived until you’ve tasted the garlic knots my Mama makes. When this is all over I’ll get her to back you a whole batch of them, just to watch you cry.’_

_‘Come here samurai. I’ve got you. It’ll be okay. I’ll make it okay.’_

Keith blinked away the memories of teenage war weary Lance and leaned forward to kiss the Lance in front of him. Whole and grown and glowing with health and happiness. The kiss lingered, Lance responding by instinct, lips parting. Keith sighed before slowly opening his eyes, finding Lance staring back at him. Gaze full and electric. Keith nudged their forehead together, breathing into the quiet warm space between them.

Lance mumbled quietly, eyes never leaving Keith’s. ‘Man, I can’t believe you beat me at love. Me! Loverboy Lance!’

Keith snorted, smiling even as he leaned forward for another kiss. Heart full and warm and pressed to Lance’s chest. What an idiot.

‘Don’t be ridiculous. You were the one showing me the way.’

  1. **Familial Love**



‘You never let me do anything!’

‘You’re not going out there on your own! It’s dangerous!’

‘Ziger’s parents let him go to Delta-2 alone last year!’

‘Well I’m not Ziger’s parent and I say no. You can’t go to Frox-Z without supervision. If Mrs Denel isn’t going then you’re not going. And that’s final!’

Isandro curled his lip, sharp little fangs flashing, yellow eyes glaring straight into Lance’s own. Only fourteen and already practically the same size as his farther. A long way from the tiny little ball of purple fluff he cradled in his palms all those years ago. 

'I hate you! You can’t tell me what to do.'

'I blooming well can, I'm your farther. And if I say you’re not going then you’re not going and that’s final.'

Isandro’s lilac nose crinkled, ears pressing flat and trembling slightly. The equivalent of a wobbling lip and wet eyes in a Galra. Driven to frustrated angry tears. 'You’re not my real farther!'

It hit Lance square in the chest as Isandro knew it would. The stern frustration cracking into shocked hurt. Frown wiped away in favour of pained blue eyes, pleading and vulnerable. It was enough to have Isandro’s own anger cooling, horrible twisting guilt clashing with the left over indignation. The seconds stretched, not a word spoken.

'That’s it. Isandro go to your room! Your Papa’s spoken, you’re not going to Frox-Z. You’ll be lucky if I even let you go to the beach after that.' Keith put himself firmly between his husband and eldest son, arms crossed resolutely. An immovable force, voice ringing with finality.

Isandro looked away, trying to hold onto his anger but the continued silence from his Papa dug in like a blade, bleeding out the flame of his fury. Huffing he pulled at his ears, snarled slightly to his Dad, who raised an unimpressed eyebrow, and stomped up the stairs. Making sure to slam his door as he did so. Pacing round his room and grumbling about the unfairness of it all. 

There was a certain heaviness to the house that day. Lance was quick to cover his hurt with a smile, something Keith new better than to believe but didn’t have the time to deal with. The twins needed to go to the dentist and then there were chores to do before Hunk came round to visit. Not to mention he needed to go food shopping or there would be nothing for diner later. Keith sighed, watched Lance get the twins sorted, reassuring them that everything was alright, smiling through the pain. He needed to deal with this.

The day moved on, Keith took the twins shopping, and Lance went for a meeting, swinging by the Garrison to catch up with Shiro, who had simple orders to keep the man busy by any means necessary. Keith was sure between Shiro and Curtis Lance would return late, giving him time to get everything prepared. 

The twins were easy to sort out. Exited and jittery but more than willing to do their part. Sitting down at the kitchen table to industrially craft their presents. Keith cooing and smiling indulgently at each new masterpiece as it was presented. Trying not to sigh about the amount of glitter he was sure to be vacuuming out weeks later. Sacrifices must be made.

It was only when he was sure that the twins were occupied, that Keith climbed the stairs of the house. Feeling the oppressive atmosphere thicken as he approached Isandro’s room. Sighing, he knocked briskly, making his way inside when there was no response. It was dark but he could see the lump that was his eldest son sulking under the bed spread. His sleeping place a large low mattress with an entire messy nest of blankets and pillows piled around. There was a faint glow from within indicating that he was probably scrolling on his phone. No doubt he had already told his friends how un-cool his parents were being. Stopping him from zipping half way across the universe for a week of unsupervised camping on a half developed planet. Keith rolled his eyes, flinging open the blinds and letting in the blazing Cuban sun before pulling off the blankets just as swiftly.

Isandro hissed at him, trying to grab at the covers. Keith raised an unimpressed eyebrow, chuffing under his breath to show just how little he cared for the insolent behaviour and chucking the covers out of reach. Isandro grumbled at him, Keith crossed his arms, staring him down. Isandro copied him, crossing his arms and sticking out his chin while he glared.

Keith rolled his eyes again, sure that he had never been this much of a little shit when he was fourteen, no matter what Shiro said. Being a parent may have finally taught Keith some patience but he still didn’t have enough to wait out his teenage son. After a few seconds he couldn’t help snapping.

'Really? That’s how you’re going to play this?' Isandro just looked away, scraping his short nails across the floor in a way that he knew drove Keith mad and had Lance whining about the scratches. 'Stop that and look at me.' Yellow eyes flashed, rising reluctantly. 'Do you have anything to say for yourself? Are you going to come downstairs? You know what we have planned for Papa today?'

Isandro sifted, shrugging his shoulders petulantly. 'Don’t want to'

'I-san-dro' Keith threatened. Every syllable filled with the threat of parental retribution. 

Isandro uncrossed his arms, throwing them out in a huff. Snapping indigently 'well, why should I?! He's the one who won’t let me go to Frox-Z. Why should I bother with his stupid surprise?'

'Because it’s the right thing to do. Because you know Lance’s right. Because he is your Papa and because you know you have to apologise somehow. So stop sulking in the dark and get your butt downstairs and help the twins with their presents. Or I’ll make good on my threat to ground you here for the rest of the holidays.'

'What! That’s unfair!'

'Do I look like I care?!' snapped Keith in return. Ignoring his sons pleading, startled eyes. He was much better than Lance at being the hard parent and was much less forgiving with his sons moods. 'You’ve been pushing your luck for weeks now Isandro and I’m not having it anymore. Your Papa might forgive you without an apology but I won’t. How could you say something like that?'

'I didn’t mean to.'

'But you did and now your Papa deserves an apology.'

Isandro shuffled, ears pinned back. Crossing his arms once again, this time more for his own comfort. 'I just wanted to go camping with my friends' he mumbled into his chest.

Keith sighed, dropping down onto the mess that was his sons bed and pulling the boy close. Squeezing him in a half hug. The Galra as large and broad at him but still so young. 'I know kid. We did to. Don’t give me that look, we really were happy to see you so excited to go exploring.'

'Then...'

'But' interrupted Keith before Isandro could continue, 'we can’t let you go without supervision. We just can’t. Your Papa’s right, you’re not old enough and you don’t know what could happen. What if something went wrong? Or someone got hurt? Would you know what to do? Would you be able to deal with it? Know who to call, pay for anything you need, sort everything out? Do you think you could do that, really? Honestly?'

Isandro opened his mouth but the look his Dad levelled him with made him close it again. Biting into his lower lip as he thought about it. Knowing that the answer was 'no' but not wanting to admit it.

'Yeah, I thought so. In a few more years maybe, but not right now. It’s just bad luck that Mrs Denel had to cancel but there will be other chances. It’s not the end of the world. There was no reason to go shouting at your Papa like that.'

Isandro made a whining, moaning noise. Surrendering to the logic of Keith’s argument but frustrated as only a young teenager pushing against the restrictive safety harness of their parents love could be. 'But he never lets me do anything! He’s always, like, your too young Isandro, or its too dangerous Isandro, or when your older Isandro. Like everyone else isn’t going out at night or getting to stay up late, or go pod driving themselves. I’m not a little kid anymore!'

Keith snorted, hearing the undisguised agony of parental embarrassment echoing in his sons words. The sight of a six foot Galra angrily face planting into the blankets never failed to amuse him. Smiling Keith ran a soothing hand through his sons scruffy hair, pinching his ears as Galra parents would to chide naughty kits, getting the automatic yip in return. The back of his sons neck flushing magenta in response to the kittenish noise. A yellow eye glared at him from the blankets.

'I know you’re not a kid anymore Isandro. And so does your Papa. He just can’t help remembering you all those years ago, when he could pick you up with on hand. Scruff you into silence and have you crawl into our bed to fall asleep when you had a nightmare. No matter how much you grow up, or grow bigger than us, you’re always going to be our little boy. Papa’s own little trooper. That’s not an easy thing for a parent to let go of.'

Isandro huffed, slowly pressing into his Dads hands carding through his fur. The comfort cooling the last of his anger. It made him think of his Papa, of the pain that flashed in his eyes. 'I didn’t mean it. When I said he wasn’t my Papa.'

'I know kid and so does he. Still doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.' Isandro huffed, burying himself once again. Keith sighed, fondly this time, and stood. Cracking his back before leaning down and pressing a kiss to one fluffy ear, making it twitch.

'Come downstairs, help the twins and apologise properly when Papa gets home. I’m sure if you ask nicely he might just be persuaded to let you go pod driving alone. To make up for you not going camping. Think about it.' Isandro didn’t answer but Keith could no longer feel the oppressive atmosphere of a brooding Galra hanging over the house. He left, heading back to the twins and his own preparations. Smiling when Isandro shuffled in, soft and apologetic in the light of the kitchen to help. Setting about making his own present, paying far more careful attention to it than he might of otherwise.

When Lance came back later that day, the sun far gone and twilight turning the sky purple, tiredness weighing down on his shoulders, it was to his family all still awake and gathered waiting in the kitchen. The side light was turned on, bathing the room in a warm half glow. The twins were sat upright at the table and buzzing in anticipation. His husband stood at the head, messy hair flying around his face, purple eyes fond and looking just as breath taking as the first time Lance fell in love. To the right was Isandro, fluffy ears turned down, fidgeting with his hands but no longer glaring.

The table was spread with garlic knots, fried plantain and Lance’s favourite curry. Wafting mouth watering smells seductively through the air. A cake stood pride of place, candles burning and looking like an exact replica of the head of the Blue Lion. Lance gapped, speechless, bag slipping from his shoulders. Keith came and took it from him, pressing a kiss to his lips which Lance automatically returned, letting himself be shuffled into a free chair.

'What’s all this about?'

'Well, since we know you’re going to be off planet next week and it’s your birthday we decided to give you a little surprise celebration now. Because we love you and didn’t want you feeling like we had forgotten.'

'Oh' breathed Lance, looking overwhelmed. 

Keith smiled, placing another kiss on Lance’s willing lips. 'Happy birthday love. I made your favourites.'

'Happy birthday Papa!' cried the twins in tandem, scrambling over to throw themselves at Lance in a hug. One he was quick to return, squeezing them close. 'We made you presents!'

'You did! What did you make me?' the twins presented their gifts, handmade cards with scribbled headers of Happy Birthday Papa proudly emblazoned on the yellow cardboard in glittering blue, pink and silver glue. Pictures of what was assumingly Lance and the rest of the family, plus some Blue and Red lions and any other odd thing on the cover. Lance received them reverently, eyes bright. 'Amazing! You did so well. Thank you, babies. I'm going to put them right here. So everyone can see them' said Lance, giving them another hug and big kisses after displaying the cards pride of place on the windowsill. Keith, knowing his husband, had already cleared a spot. The twins giggled and kissed Lance back, screaming and wiggling to freedom when he started blowing raspberries on their cheeks. Keith corralled them back into their seats, where they watched the food with impatient wanting eyes. He nudged Isandro closer.

Looking the epitome of awkwardness Isandro stood, Lance offering a wane smile. The fight from this morning still fresh and hurting. Fidgeting, Isandro proffered his own card. Yellow but with significantly less glitter. A simple stylised happy birthday was displayed on the front. Lance opened it, the simple message of 'dear Papa, I’m sorry. Love Isandero' threatening to have him tear up. Instead of crying Lance smiled, thanked his son and put his card next to the twins. All three proudly displayed in the heart of their home.

'Isandro also made and decorated the cake' said Keith, breaking his way gently into the moment. Isandro flushed, embarrassed to be caught. Lance smile broaden, bright and shinning. 

‘Awww, thank you! I love it. Wait, I need to show everyone!' he said, getting out his phone and taking a million pictures. Babbling on about Hunk and Shiro being so jealous. He then moved on to pictures of the family. Isandro must have still felt a little guilty as he let Lance take pictures of him with no fuss, instead of grumbling and covering his face as normal. Keith let Lance indulge himself for a few moments, glorying in seeing that the shadow was hanging over his husband had been cleared. Eventually he coughed meaningfully, getting everyone, including Lance, to sit quiet and look to him expectantly. Like well trained school kids. Rolling his eyes Keith nudged Isandro again, motioning with his eyes.

Still grumbling and a little flushed with embarrassment from being caught caring about his parents he set about lighting the candles. Pushing the cake towards a beaming Lance. Feeling the know of guilt and worry unravel. 

'Happy birthday Papa. Make a wish'  
  


**+1. Enduring Love**

The Blue Lion was often toted as the friendliest of her pride. This, she knew to be false. Certainly, she the most open of her pride mates, the most emotive and communicative. The most willing to indulge in new pilots, new souls, and try to make them fit. That did not, however, make her _friendly_. Her moods were as fickle and changeable as her nature. Love turning to apathy at the spark of a new star, curiosity to disinterest, respect to indifference. So often the mortal souls couldn’t keep up, couldn’t hold her mind and her heart close to their own. Falling behind, to still, to small, to _enclosed_ in their own little world. No room for change. She would cast them aside as quickly as she welcomed them. Her love turned cold with age.

It took something special, something rare, for Blue to find a true paladin. Someone who could make her not just love them, but fall _in love_ with them. Again and again. As fluid, adaptable and changeable as herself. As large and expansive in their emotions as she. One who could place their hearts by hers and neither suffocate nor smother.

The search or her first paladin had been long. Her precious paladin coming to her after the rest of her sisters. By then even she, the most hopeful of lions, had started to become jaded. It had taken challenge upon challenge for Blaytz to prove her wrong. To bring an end to her search. The birth of a paladin who’s heart was as true to the spirit of water as her own.

The war had ravaged that bond. Strained and broken it and left it scattered to the mercy of the universe, just as she and her pride had been scattered. When Blue had been left in the small quiet planet on the fringes of the universe, buried deep in a cave within an inland ocean Blue had known he first love had come to an end. Blaytz left her, with tears, soft parting words and the heavy heart of one surviving those he held dear. Blue had offered him the little comfort she could, purring and soothing his grief. Burying her own. He had left her there; in her watery hideaway, and in time she knew he was no more.

The planet, small and distant, was prone to change. Over the short ten thousand years she slumbered there her ocean dried. Leaving her stranded and parched in the encroaching dessert, salt crusting on her particle shield. The natives found her, Blues mind searched and came up wanting. After knowing Blaytz, after knowing love, she couldn’t bare to take just any pilot once again. Remembering the burning fire and blazing death of the spreading plague of Zarkon’s madness, the fury of his forces, the ultimatum of his rule, the iron of his will. She knew that she would need a true paladin, a strong loyal bond, to face him. To revive Voltron. A paladin born of water.

As the years and years passed, the discovers of her tomb died out, not one of their brief flashing lives waking her from her slumber. Others found her, left her wanting, and passed on. Every year the dessert grew hotter, the people fewer. Her hope withered with the spreading sands. The sun leaving her parched with longing.

Then her boy had come along. Quintessence spilling into her mind like an ocean through the dessert. Awakening her in an instant. Never had Blue been so taken, never had she felt such a connection so instantly. There had been another she had been calling, the one who she had known since childhood. Recognising his quintessence and feeling empathy with his loneliness but knowing he wasn’t for her. His mind and spirit to hot, too ravaged. A perfect match for her Red brethren but not her paladin.

This, however, was different

The boy looked at her, instantly unafraid. Approaching with a curious open mind. His soul practically singing with hers. The Blue Lion had never felt such a connection. It was love at first sight.

She couldn’t keep her gaze off him. With the brief touch of his hand to her particle barrier she felt the spark of the bond establish itself. Her thoughts stretching out to weave their way through his. Pushing the image of him - her - _them_ , together. With a start she realised that her thoughts had stretched to the rest of the beings as their excited startled voices rang out. The distant connection of her to her pride mates reaching out. Resonating with their own quintessence.

Fate. It could only be fate. Blue couldn’t help purring as her boy ran without hesitation into her cockpit, heart thrumming in his chest, mirroring her excitement. His hands were young and clumsy but perfect. She rejoiced, feeling her boy instantly match her mood. Crying out with the sheer delight of flight, and speed, and freedom. The rest of her gaggle of passengers screaming and tumbling around but her boy was laughing. Cresting the wave of her jubilation, urging her higher, ready for the next swell, instinctive and right and brilliant. Her Paladin. Now and for always.

The bond had only grown from that moment. Depths deepening, horizons expanding, tributaries of thoughts whirling into rivers of dreams. Her boy took everything she could throw at him and threw it right back. Thrived with her changing moods, danced in her fickle rains, rejoiced and taunted and damn near frolicked in the tides of her temper. Pushing and pulling against her. Perfectly connected and perfectly separate at the same time. 

Her boy gave and gave and _gave_. To his family, to his team, to the universe and to her. Blue had fallen in love, and she was not alone. Story after story after story of came pouring fourth. Of thoughts and feelings and wishes for the future. Inside jokes and embarrassing moments and insecurities and nightmares and deepest dreams all laid bare. She revealed in it. Thrilled in it.

Most startling was the silence, the pause, as he waited for a response. Urging her to fill the bond with her own stories. Waiting for the deliverance of her own soul in response. None had done that before. Treated her with such tenderness and affection. She could see into her boy’s heart, so open, so strong. Ever changing but never breaking. So she knew, without doubt, that her boy loved her. Considered her family as much as any other dear to him. Worried for her, and cared for her and wanted to make her feel loved as any other. Devotion shown through chatter, through cleaning, constant maintenance and deep joint pedicures he endured for hours just because he knew she liked the freeing of the brush between her toes. Blue knew love.

She still couldn’t believe it.

'Blue, baby, there’s someone I want you to meet' her boy called softly, cradling something in his arms. She tilted her head minutely to show she was listening. Understanding that he would know her eyes had been on him the moment he entered the room. Her boy smiled up at her, she started purring, the sheer depth of his joy spilling over to her without pause. Zinging through her joints and cold exterior to have her quintessence singing in response, vibrating in the warmth and breadth of his happiness. 

'So you sort of know them already, what with what happened on the mission and all, but since it’s kind of official now I figure I need to introduce you properly. Since you’re my best girl and all. So say hello…to… ' her boy trailed off, staring up at her with slowly widening eyes. Thoughts spinning to the surface in rippling torrents. His smile grew wider. Less warm, more gleeful. 'Wait...just wait! I need to do this properly.'

He ran off, ignoring Blue’s gentle questioning rumble. Sending back excitement and love and patience in return. She grumbled but waited. He returned, still carrying his bundle as before but this time swaddled in a different style blanket. In his hand he carried a weird black cube which began hovering in the air when he threw it and in the other he had a small pot of one of his lotions. As the tune began to play he opened the pot, swirling a stripe of the goo across the small kits brow.

_Naaannnntsss, ingonyama…_

Blue could practically fee the bubbling amusement of her paladin, joining in with her own gleeful rumble when she understood. Lance lifted the child up, displaying them to Blue as the music reached its crescendo.

'Behold, Isandro McClain!' He cried, suddenly effecting to look and sound sombre and serious. The music and his shout echoing around the hanger. Blue rumbled in response, pulling up the files her boy had shown her, recognising the scene from his jokes. Slowly, with a great creaking screech of metal she stood and bowed, dipping her head and flicking her tail behind her. The baby Galra blinked blurry, barely open yellow eyes. Lance grinned, ecstatic.

_It’s the circle of life…and it rules us all…_

Slowly the music tapered off, the Galra was brought back to rest against her boy’s chest, smudge of moisturising cream wiped away. 'Thanks, baby Blue. I couldn’t resist.'

She rumbled, edging closer and lowering her ramp. Once her boy climbed inside their bond reached a whole new level. Feelings and thoughts shared as easy as breath. Rapid and bright. Blue got the whole story, about the baby Galra being bound to her kit, about her boy’s own sprouted love and devotion. She purred her congratulations.

'Awww, thanks baby Blue. Aren’t they perfect? So small. I love them so much already.' Blue knew, she could feel it. Slowly she extended her thoughts to the baby, being careful her own immense quintessence didn’t overwhelm the new life, so unformed and small. So easy to drown and crush. A little flicker in a burning cosmos. A single drop of rain in an ocean not yet grown. Lance caressed the chubby lilac cheeks softly.

'Can you believe it girl? I have a son. I’m a Papa now.' He kissed their fluffy little head, breathing in their new baby smell. Something shared between Galra and human babies. 'I have...no idea what I’m doing.' He admitted, knowing his girl would be able to see the fear and the anxiety swirling. His soul as clear as glass.

Blue sent assurances, letting her boy have his moment. Lance smiled, sending back feelings of thankfulness. Stroking his baby’s cheek he gazed adoringly into their hazy yellow eyes.

'Hay little one, this is Blue. She's a little moody but she’s my best girl. If your ever in trouble you go to her.'

Blue purred, indulging in the moment, thoughts moving as ice burgs into place. When they collided the impact was immense. Blue could practically feel the shift in her soul. The zing of emotion that frissioned through her.

Her boy wasn’t just showing her his baby as one would display something interesting. He wasn’t just babbling in happiness. He had come to her with the express purpose of introducing his new son to her. The Blue Lion. As one member of his family to another. With full faith that she would love his son as he did. Love begetting love.

If Blue could weep she would. She knew, as all her pride knew, that the lives of their paladins, if not taken and stolen by battle, would still amount to a single speck in comparison to their own. Burning bright and brilliant as a firework before returning to the deep dark in-between of the universe. Stardust through the void. While they would continue on, grieving and wanting. How many paladins they would they have? How many lives they would they come to cherish only to lose? Already they had lost one set of paladins to greed and corruption. Eventually, inevitably, they would lose another.

Blue had known grief. Known she would still grieve at the loss of her boy. The looming threat of love lost, the loneliness of those dessert days threatened to drive her mad if she let it. Here her boy was, mortal and weak, young and naive, ignorant to the weight of the time pressing down on the universe. Here he was, showing her with a few simple words that she was wrong.

Her love did not have to end with him. Because in loving Lance and being loved in return she was no longer just the Blue Lion of Voltron. She was Blue, lion and best girl of Lance McClain. Family to his family. She may lose him but she would not lose his love. Not yet. For here was a child for her to love afterwards, and they too may have a child that she could love, and they too. On and on for generations to come. A simpler immortality.

She brushed against the soft bubble of quintessence that was the kit once more. Letting the bond and love of her boy guide her. Wrapping the new little life gently in her own waves. Rocking them within her cradle. In that moment Blue recognised that she too had changed since the moment of her creation.

She was as fickle and malleable as ever, bonded to the element she presided over, now and for always, and as such she had changed. Learned and grown from her experiences, scarred and moulded by her tragedies and triumphs, just as everything else. She was born knowing how to fight, Blaytz had taught her trust, Zarkon had taught her loss and her boy, her little blue ocean boy, had taught her love. To love deeply and to love well and to offer love to all she met.

Lance could fee her actions, also encased in her protective embrace. He sighed marginally, rocking the now drowsy baby. 'Thanks beautiful. Love you.'

And I, you. For now and always, to the end of my days. I shall hold you and yours close to me.

I love you, my little blue boy. My Lance.


End file.
